


Present Arms

by Anonymous



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bondage, Bottom Steve Rogers, Gags, M/M, Non-Consensual Groping, Unconsciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 16:55:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9334247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: After Captain America is knocked unconscious, the Winter Soldier takes the time to inspect this new Steve.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Non-con tag is due to some dubious touching while Steve is unconscious. I like to give people a heads up.

In the end it wasn't the punch - Captain America could take a punch - it was the failing mortar of a stone wall. He had taken one step back and the crumbling rock had gone out from under his feet. The sound of his head striking the stone was like someone kicking in a watermelon.

At first the Soldier hung back to see if he would get up, but after a few minutes he approached cautiously.

Dead? No, alive, just deeply unconscious.

The Soldier evaluated his options. He could kill this one if he was quick enough; decapitation was probably the surest bet, given the evidence of his superior healing powers. But no one had issued a neutralization order.

The logical option was to exit the field and continue to pursue his mission.

But for some reason he found himself bending over the man who has caused him so much trouble lately. Always showing up at the wrong moment. Always trying to call up old memories the Soldier had no interest in recalling.

With his boot he pushed him over onto his front. Defenseless.

He stripped off the man's helmet and pulled his head up by the hair to look into his slack face. Proud. Sensitive. Familiar?

He heaved him over by the shoulder, onto his belly. With his knife he cut strips of fabric from the Captain's own uniform and used them to bind the big man's wrists tightly behind his back, and then his ankles. Then he went back for more fabric.

Kneeling over the unconscious man it was easy enough to wrap one wide strip closely over his eyes - it would make him more docile when he woke up - and then, thumbing his chin down, stuff a second wadded roll between the lax lips. That would make him a hell of a lot easier to deal with. The Soldier couldn't help smiling grimly as he cut a long strip to secure the gag in place, tying it snugly behind the blond's head.

"That ought to hold you," he murmured, patting the fabric-covered face. "All swaddled up now, ain'tcha."

With his metal arm he hefted the bulk of the man over one shoulder, knowing he might not have too long before the Captain started to wake up. Maybe he didn’t exactly have a plan, but he knew he needed to get into secure territory, where they'd be free from interruption. He'd established a base a few miles away; they could go there. He set out, leaving the helmet and the blue-star shield upside down in the dirt, defeated.

\--

The blond man didn't show any sign of waking when the Soldier eased him down on the hard-packed ground. His lips, parted by his gag, were healthy pink. Pulse steady; temperature seemed normal. Placed on his side, he was breathing easy.

The Soldier didn't know why he'd felt compelled to bring the man here. He was a nuisance, with enough unnatural strength to make him a real threat. Plus, he always seemed to have friends nearby; now this base would be blown. 

The Captain claimed they had known each other, in the vague _before_. The Soldier didn't have a lot of interest in that. He certainly didn't look familiar, and such a competitor should have been memorable.

Best to search him for weapons now, or a tracker. He took out the short, deadly blade that was always belted to his ankle, and cut through the straps on the Captain's armor. It fell away.

Testing, he lifted the bound head under the chin, and placed the knife thoughtfully against his carotid. He held it there a long time.

Then he dragged it down, just skimming the skin - not enough to cut - down over his collarbone, to the neckline of his shirt. It parted like butter around the blade. He pushed him over onto his back and continued, down the seam of his ribcage, between his pecs, down to his belly, the fabric easily sliding away. He was tan underneath, packed with muscle, flawless. The Soldier put his hand out to touch. Smooth and warm.

He sliced through the belt next, and cut away the pants by dragging the knife down from the bottom of his fly over the line of his dick. He was wearing white cotton boxer-briefs. They looked shockingly innocent, a teenager's choice of underwear.

The Soldier could remember a teenager in white briefs like this - a scrawny boy, shivering with cold, coughing wetly into his arm. He was seated on a bed leaning forward while the doctor listened to his lungs.

"Take it easy, squirt," said the Soldier, out loud.

_I can't get sick, Bucky, I gotta work. You know rent is due._

"You let me worry about that, Stevie. How about you just take care of yourself, okay?" He'd drawn the sheets up over the boy's naked back, over his hunched shoulders, tucked them close around his neck in front, and when the boy had started to cough again, he’d rubbed wide, soothing circles.

_Hey, hey now, easy, babe. Take it easy._

The Soldier looked down at the half-naked man in front of him, at the broad, wide chest. He reached out cautiously and rested his hand against the muscle, even squeezed it the way one might squeeze a woman’s breast. His thumb brushed over the little nipple, which tightened under the pressure.

The boy he was thinking of had a sallow, sunken chest that hitched when he breathed. But he’d liked that too, having his nipples played with, pinched, sucked.

_Oh, Bucky – Oh – feels so good – mm, don’t stop, Bucky, don’t – Oh!_

The Soldier leaned over him, cut through the white underwear and pushed the two scraps impatiently to the side. The cock that was revealed was proportional to the rest of him, lying quiet now in a nest of blond hair. There was no flash of recognition at the sight of it.

He remembered a small, shy little thing, hardly enough for him to get his hand around, but perfect in his mouth, against his tongue. And Steve was so ashamed of it, he always worried women would laugh at him, that he wouldn’t be able to get it inside of them. But it got hard well enough, and it spat its pleasure all over Steve’s concave belly when Bucky was sweet to it.

It liked to be kissed, it liked to be tucked up into the crease of Bucky’s thigh when they rutted together, it liked to be cradled in Bucky’s palm when he had Steve belly-down and squirming.

The Soldier pushed the Captain’s legs as wide apart as he could, given his bonds, and reached to scoop up the sandy balls in his human hand.

It made quite a picture - the powerful body, quiescent now, bound, lying in the rags of his clothes, his face obscured, spread open with the Soldier’s hand between his legs.

He could un-man the hero right now, before he even woke.

A hand on his hip, another on his shoulder, and he was flipped over, his cheek pressed in the dirt. The Soldier took a moment to make sure he could breathe, patting his face under the rags. The back of his shirt was caught up in his bound arms, but a few passes of the knife on his clothing had it free.

He checked the fingers, making sure they were neither white nor waxy nor cold. No, he was fine. Helpless, but fine. Safe.

He freed the pale buttocks the same way – they were solid with muscle, square, unfamiliar, and then pulled them apart, crooning under his breath.

Here was a part that he recognized – this tender little hole. In this well-built body he found nothing he remembered, but this.

He spat, the action an echo of a thousand other times, and rubbed his thumb around the opening. It welcomed him, grasping hungrily, and he wondered if anybody had done this for the Captain since him.

_What did you do to yourself, Stevie? Huh? What’d you go and do?_

He eased one finger in, rubbing over the soft insides of Steve’s body where he was still shy and pliable.

The body underneath him squirmed. The head turned blindly, a muffled sound of confusion through his gag.

“Shh, Stevie. You’re alright, baby, aren’t you. Just need this.” He’d switched to English, even.

He tried to talk, garbled; “ _Aungh-eee?”_ A name, maybe. But he didn’t start to fight.

The Soldier pushed deeper, reaching for a spot, still pinning the Captain down on his belly even though the other man wasn't pulling away. He found the round, raised bump just where it used to be.

The Captain jerked, moaned. He’d be drooling, the way his mouth was angled. His shoulders tensed, testing out his bonds, and then relented with a muted hum. He lay still like a good boy and let himself be explored.

“Yeah, that’s it,” said the Soldier, starting out a rhythmic pressure, his eyes on what remained of the cargo pants bunched around the other man's knees. It made him seem more human. More like he used to be. "Just like that."

He liked this. The massive arms, the powerful thighs he distrusted; but this, the boy worming on his belly, begging without words, riding the finger in his ass - this worked.

As he got close the Captain couldn’t help making noise; his head tossed and nuzzled in the dirt until he rubbed off the blindfold, but he couldn’t spit out that muffling wad of fabric. He turned to watch the Soldier over his shoulder, eyes full of longing. Thank God that pretty mouth was full.

Finally a short, sharp tap against just the right spot did the trick; the Captain groaned and shuddered and groaned and came into the dirt. Then he slumped forward, exhausted, inadvertently offering his backside up for whatever came next.

The Soldier could picture sliding his cock in that clenching little hole. Laying his weight over the other man, making him take it all. Sheltering and controlling him, whispering secrets into his ear.

Instead he slipped the silver knife into the grasp of those bound hands.

"Don't try to follow me," he muttered. Then he scooped up his go-bag and disappeared.

_See ya next time, kiddo._

_\- Not if I see you first._


End file.
